Penance
by LethalIngenuity
Summary: Matthew Williams has forgotten everything, and is now trying to focus on what still exists rather than what was lost. But he finds that the fellow passenger on the train might just be the key to his past. Sequel to Happenstance
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure we all know that since this is a fanfiction, I do not own Hetalia.  
>Prologue<strong>

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><p><em>Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,<br>and many goodly states and kingdoms seen...  
><strong>John Keats<strong>_

"Who are you engaged to?"

Matthew Williams is in quite a rush and he most definitely does not need his best friend/roommate Gilbert Beilschmidt to be bothering him so early in the morning. Or rather, late in the morning. Matthew takes a quick glance outside to see the sun already high and proud in the sky.

Okay, late afternoon.

"It's none of your business" he quips, as he pulls a black t shirt over his bare torso. Normally he would cover up all his burn scars, but he didn't care if Gilbert saw. Gilbert had already known why they were there, anyways.

"We live together. We eat breakfast together. We sleep together. I watch your mouth flap up and down and listen to you talk about your emotions, even though all I want to do is have sex with you and I can't exactly shove my penis in your personality." Matthew rolls his eyes, but as Gilbert continues on his voice doesn't soften but grows monotone. Matthew has been friends with Gilbert long enough to know that the lack of inflection meant Gilbert was serious. "And I care about you, and I love you so much I am willing to be this close to you to make sure you don't kill yourself -don't give me that look- and as long as you have that ring around your neck" his rambling continues as the two of them walk through the house and to the front door. "I will not touch you. You are engaged, and you love someone else, and I am willing to accept that. But I will try my best to make you want to take it off. So yes, it is my business."

Matthew whips around and suddenly Gilbert is facing a man who is clad in his police uniform with tears streaming down his face.

"I hate you."

Much to Gilbert's surprise, Matthew grabs his face and pulls it to his own, their lips crashing together forming a harsh but brief kiss.

"I hate you so much that maybe in a very far and distant future involving jet packs, I will move on from Alfred, forget about these incredibly small feelings I have for Arthur, and possibly love you the same way I did before. But honestly, I don't see that happening any time soon."

Then Matthew spun on his heel, marched into his car and hastily drove off.

If only Gilbert had known this would be the last time he would see _this _Matthew Williams again, he would have grabbed Matthew tight and whispered how much he loved him over and over again.


	2. Reunion

**Disclaimer: It's only here out of habit  
>Chapter 1: Secret Reunion but A New Friendship <strong>

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><p><em>Stop worrying about the potholes in the road and enjoy the journey.<br>**Babs Hoffman**_

It has been a long and gruesome year since what Matthew and Gilbert had both unfondly dubbed, "the incident", and Matthew believes he has finally set his feet on solid ground. The constant ebbing in the back of his mind that tells him he should be remembering something has gradually faded, and he has come to accept the fact that his past is gone.

But there will always be something missing.

Whenever he stares into the sky, whenever he walks to the bus stop, whenever he just simply closes his eyes, he sees a 10 digit number fluttering about in the back of his mind. He doesn't know what it means, but he knows it's important. But he tries not to care, because he is trying to move on.

And he is.

Right now he was on a train, travelling to Canada. There he would begin a new life with Gilbert, away from the people who recognize him, away from the people who stare at him and expect him to say something he's known for saying, like some sort of catch phrase. Then he doesn't. He sees the disappointment in their eyes behind their polite and distant smiles. These persons were people he had once called friends. Co-workers. Acquaintances. Whenever he spoke, it just affirmed their worst fears.

The Matthew Williams they had loved is gone.

He stared out the window, watching as the lights streaked by, contemplating and concentrating. Maybe he could remember something. Just one small thing from his past that can help him out. Wait- no, he wasn't supposed to dwell. He was supposed to be moving forward.

"The lights are too bright. You can't see the stars."

"H-huh? Excuse me?"

Matthew turned to his left. Sitting beside him was a man with untamed sandy blonde hair, striking emerald eyes and (Matthew doesn't want to say it to be rude, but there seams to be no other way to properly describe them) gigantic eyebrows. The man was probably only a few years older than Matthew.

"The lights," the man said, as he gestured towards the window. "You may think it makes the city pretty, but you can't see the stars. Light pollution."

The man leaned back into his chair with a smug expression. Clearly he had been expecting some sort of reaction.

"I-I beg your pardon?" Matthew murmured under his breath.

"You know," the man gestured with his hands, as if Matthew was supposed to remember something – as if it were a little inside joke. "Light pollution?"

The only thing Matthew could do was stare blankly back at the man. "Umm... I don't mean to be – er.. rude, but who are you?"

The man looked quite offended and his smile quickly morphed into a scowl.

"What the bloody hell do you mean, _who are you_? You impudent – do you not recognize me? I am Arthur Kirkland!"

Oh gosh. Matthew was supposed to know this guy? Maybe this guy was famous or something. He was British too, judging by his accent. Oh that's it! He's a foreign famous actor! Crap, what if Matthew had just started some sort of international dispute? Gilbert would probably be excited about that..

And that's how Matthew knew it was a bad thing.

"I-I'm sorry, sir" he stammered, unable to say what he truly wanted to. "b-but.. .um... I don't watch T.V! I mean, I don't- I don't watch any movies! So if you're some sort of celebrity – I guess you're British maybe? Or Irish? I'm not too sure! I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland!"

Matthew quickly whipped his head back to the window to hide his embarrassment. He listened as the man murmured something, and was only able to catch a name, 'Alfred' from the whispering. Oh no. Maybe this man was crazy. He was talking to himself, and thought Matthew knew him! They _just_ met!  
>Matthew could see the man's half amused look in the window reflection.<p>

"I'm sorry, lad." he laughed. "I must have mistaken you for someone else."

Matthew let out a small, "it's okay," pass through his lips.

"Look at me," said the man who called himself Arthur. "I won't bite. As long as you behave."

Matthew did, out of sheer intimidation and belief that if he didn't, this stranger _would_bite him. He faced Arthur but did his best to avoid his gaze.

"What's your name?"

"M-Matthew Williams, sir."

"As you already know, my name is Arthur Kirkland. Mr. Williams, I do sincerely apologize. I've managed to frighten you and we are barely half way to our destination."

He held out a hand to Matthew.

"May I have forgiveness?"

He cautiously took the hand.

"Y-you're forgiven."

Then as Arthur turned to converse with himself yet again, Matthew fidgeted in his seat. Could he discreetly call 911? Or was Matthew being overly paranoid? Maybe he should take a look at Arthur again, just in case he had to give a description. Because you know, Arthur might attempt to kill him and it's always good to know what your killer looks like. When Matthew finally mustered the courage to steal a glance, he saw that Arthur had some sort of device in his ear. It was a blue tooth. Oh, he was talking on the phone. That makes so much sense.

So he's not crazy. Or as crazy as Matthew initially thought.

Whoever he was talking with though, seemed to agitate him, for his voice grew louder and louder.

"No, Alfred, I am telling you, it is not an act. It seems completely genuine. It feels like a first meeting as well. Oh? Really? I do not warrant how a bet with the dead may gain me profit, but if only to shut you up, I shall do as you request. Now shut up."

Seeing as that appeared to be the end of their phone conversation and that he wasn't crazy, Matthew attempted at small talk by muttering under his breath, "seems like Alfred is a troublesome guy." he kind of hoped that Arthur wouldn't hear it.

But of course, Matthew was always the luckiest. Arthur heard him.

"Yes, he is quite the trouble maker, that Alfred F. Jones. He sticks his nose into everyone's business, and has this gigantic ego and the biggest hero complex. But," The stern expression on Arthur's face seemed to grow just the tiniest bit softer. "He was trustworthy, and extremely loyal to his roots. He had grown into a fine young man, and was able to lighten the heart of anyone who he had deemed a friend. Truly, one of the greatest friends I could have asked for."

Did Arthur realize he was using the past tense?

"He sounds nice. I would like to meet him." Matthew really did.

"I'm sure he would have loved you to death."

Okay, now that was awkward.

Really awkward.

"I spent my entire childhood growing up and taking care after Alfred, "Arthur continued on. He looked at Matthew as if expecting yet another reaction. "What about you? How was your childhood?"

"I... Well.. I don't remember my childhood."

Arthur looked genuinely shocked.

"Why not? You do not have to answer, I will not pry. Do you mind telling me?"

Matthew sighed. "I do. I mean, I don't! I don't mind! It's just... I don't remember any of my past. Any of it." He paused, for it looked as if Arthur had just been punched in the gut. Or somewhere lower.

"Please. Continue."

"Ah..." He pushed his glasses up with his index finger. It was a force of habit. Was it newly acquired, or from the past? He would never really know. "You see, I used to be a police officer. You already know how physical it can get, and while on duty, I fell or something. Got a concussion. And well, y-you know, one of the symptoms of a concussion is memory loss. It's been hard, but my fiancé Gilbert-"

"Gilbert?" a voice that could rival a banshee screech.

Oh. So Arthur was homophobic.

"Yes, um, Gilbert Beilschmidt. He's my fiancé. He's been really kind to me. Not just him. I have this other friend who's offering me a job in Canada, so I'm going to take his offer on it. Apparently, both this friend and Gil have known me since I was a teen. But they've both been treating me well, helping me relearn things. Gil's not really that patient, so usually it's... Well, Gil tells me I'm not the same as I was before, but he said he'll always love me. We all agreed that I should start a new life, move on, forget about the past. It's not important anymore, because as -"

"It is important." Toneless. Stern.

"H-huh?" Why was Arthur so serious?

"It is important," Arthur repeated, sounding a bit infuriated. "Our past is what makes us, what forges our very foundations of our being. Without our past, we are not who we are today. Every action, every scar on our body tells a story that only we know. Do you not want to remember that? Those little things that make you, you?"

Matthew immediately thought back to the 10 digit number. He knew it was important. It was like a scar that was burned into his mind.

"Y-yes. I do."

"Then don't give up, Matthew Williams. You may start a new life, you may have your new beginnings. But you can never give up on your past. Would you promise me that eventually you will remember your childhood, and tell me about it?"

"T-that promise insinuates that we will meet again."

A moment of silence passes between them. Painful. Agonizing. But Matthew does not know why.

"We will meet again. That is certain."

"I- I have a fiancé and-"

"I do not care."

They sit through the rest of the ride in silence. The only words said being a good bye, as they both departed the train and went their separate ways.


End file.
